*Plaguelands, several days ago beneath the ruins of a village of Lordaeron.*
It was dark within the ruins, the light of day penetrating no further than the dust covered stairs leading down into the depths. Beyond the stairs, what seemed to be miles of corridors stretched out beneath a seemingly innocent looking ruined library within a long abandoned human settlement. The plaguelands were full of such ruins, and this one would have been no different, if not for the scent of magic within it.
Magic is what drew the Legion. Magic is what caused the felhunters to pause near the ruined library, their demonic snouts pressed to the ground as they detected the faint hint of it deep beneath the surface. And so the little raiding party had paused in its movements, spending some time to root out the source of the power to destroy it or claim it in the Legion's glory to further the destruction of the pathetic world of Azeroth.
Only it had not been that easy. First the secret passage had to be located, and then, to the surprise of all of the demonic forces present, extremely powerful wards had to be removed and the entryway had to be excavated. Faarhi, the Eredar leading the raiding party, tapped one of her hooves impatiently as she waited to hear news from the advanced party she had sent down into the depths below. They had been using human slaves captured from the nearby countryside to do most of the work and to clear the wards, and the group she'd sent down had been made up of mostly slaves and a few felguards to keep them in line as they cleared the way.
Faarhi paused her restless tapping, her red and black robes shifting as an ear-splitting scream echoed up from the chambers below. She rolled her fel-fire eyes, looking around at the interior of the library itself which was already littered with numerous dead humans that had fallen victim to the magical wards on the place. And now, judging by the sounds, the rest of her slaves had likely met similar fates. What could be so important beneath the earth that such powerful magics were used to defend it?
Whatever it was, it would belong to the Legion, and Faarhi would be the one to claim it. With a sigh she began her descent down into the depths, her hooves making loud noises on the ancient stones as darkness closed in around her. She whispered a word of magic, a ball of felfire hovering in the air near her shoulder to illuminate the path ahead.
Although the tunnel system truly was a labyrinth, it appeared that her advanced party had only chosen one tunnel to travel down. Side passages loomed in the darkness, but many were blocked with fallen debris while the path forward was cleared. Cautiously she moved, occasionally stepping over the body of a fallen human who had become victim to one of the many concealed wards in the passageway. She sensed no magic in the tunnel itself, meaning her slaves had done their work and died for the Legion, clearing the magical defenses for her.
The tunnel was not overly long, and soon ended in a doorway that lead to a circular chamber beyond. The door itself had many fallen bodies around it, several of them being her felguards. She approached more cautiously, stepping over them gingerly and peering into the room.
There was not much to say of the interior. It was a small, circular chamber cut into the ground and lined with stone. Much of the floor space was littered with treasure; golden coins spilled haphazardly and mixed with priceless gems and a spattering of magical items. It was not these that drew her eye though as she stepped over the bodies of two more fallen human slaves, instead it was the dais in the center of the room. The stone column was waist-high and Light glowed from its top, surrounding a dark book with a deep purple gem set in its cover. It was here that the magic was strongest, it was this that had attracted her felhunters from above the ground.
Faarhi smirked, moving further into the chamber. Light! It was always Light that the pitiful humans of this world clung to. Even though it would never save them from the Legion's might. Any relic they protected with Light was important, was something to be corrupted or destroyed to weaken them, and here was one before her, unguarded now and defenseless. With a casual gesture, Faarhi brought a hand up over the glowing, holy wards around the book and spoke a word of darkness, snuffing the Light out forevermore.
In the darkness, something sighed as if pent up energies stored for an extended period of time had finally been released. The temperature in the room plunged in seconds, and Faarhi looked around the chamber cautiously, feeling uneasy all of a sudden. There was a gust of wind that ruffled her skirts, as if air had rushed in from some outside source, enhancing the chill that she felt.
Carefully, still looking for hidden wards or other traps, Faarhi leaned forward and opened the book on the dais to see what it contained and to judge how she might make use of it. To her surprise, the pages within were blank, and she flipped past page after page finding only empty nothing within. That changed a moment later when words began to form on one of the blank pages, and Faarhi's eyes widened as she read the story that appeared.
Once upon a time there was an Eredar too foolish for her own good. She delved into places she did not belong, and meddled with powers she did not understand. In the end, her thirst for power doomed her.
Faarhi quickly retreated from the dais, looking around the room in a panic. Clearly she had triggered some trap or something dangerous, although it was not clear what. Her confusion was answered a moment later as disembodied laughter filled the room, echoing here and there within the hollow chamber.
"Who's there? Who dares to defy the Legion?!" Faarhi shouted at nothing.
A sultry, feminine voice replied from seemingly beneath the ground, the sound horrifying, "You come into my sanctum and dare to question me? Do you have any idea of what you've done? Any idea of the torture you have just freed me from? I should repay you by allowing you to live, but I don't quite like your tone..."
"I am from the planet Argus and am amongst the most powerful races within the Legion!" Faarhi replied in anger. "How dare you presume to talk to me in such a manner? Whatever power you come from, whatever fuels you, I will have it for my own. Now show yourself!"
"As you wish...Eredar," the voice replied. Flames flared to life all around the room, dozens of candles igniting as magic poured into the hollow space. Wind rushed past Faarhi, ruffling her robes again and seemingly howling around one of the dead slaves laying on the floor near the entrance. The deceased woman was laying on her stomach, her sightless eyes staring at nothing from beneath a mound of red hair. To Faarhi's everlasting horror, a blue glow began to shine from those dead, staring eyes and the corpse began to twitch. It snapped and popped, as if its joints were not working properly.
Faarhi turned to stare down the dead woman as she rose from her place on the floor stiffly, her neck bent at an odd angle as the glow in her eyes intensified to an ice blue. With another pop her head tilted in the correct orientation, those blue orbs now affixed on Faarhi. The voice that came from her mouth was mortal now, although it had a tinge of the otherworldly echo heard earlier, "Satisfied now, Eredar?"
Faarhi smirked, shaking her head, "A ghost or wraith! I am not afraid of you. Once you are destroyed I will take your precious book with me to be examined by our necromancers, and you will be summoned again to serve the Legion. Now die again little thing."
With that she flicked her wrist, a ball of felfire hurtling towards the dead woman as easily as one might casually toss a stone. A moment later the ball of magic slammed into invisible wards, the flames exploding around the dead woman and never touching her, scorching the floor all around her.
As Faarhi looked on with shock, the woman smirked, her eyes glowing more brightly now and the red of her hair seeming to become brighter as if the spirit within was growing stronger and more accustomed to its shell. Her voice was tainted with malice as she spoke, "Your education in such matters is....severely deficient. Sadly you will not live to report back to the Legion about this or anything else my dear Eredar. I have need of your power."
The woman lurched forward suddenly, and to Faarhi's horror her hands came up and icy cold magic flared at her fingertips, slamming into the Eredar and throwing her backwards. She hit the dais hard,tumbling over it and falling with it on the hard floor behind her. She brought up her own magic to shield herself, only to feel the spell be shredded by the unexpectedly powerful enemy she faced. In a panic she brought her hands up again, and an icy cold spell slashed into her, severing many of her fingers. She screamed in pain as a shadow loomed over her.
The woman stood there, her dead, cold eyes staring down at her. There was no question in Faarhi's mind that it was not the spirit of the slave she'd sent down to her death. No, something else was in the woman, smirking at her behind those eyes. Something so filled with malice that it would have put many demons to shame. With a shaking voice Faarhi managed to get a few choked words out, "W-what...are you? Who are you....?"
The woman smiled as that cold, deadly magic flared up on her fingertips again as she brought her hands up. Her response was the last thing Faarhi the Eredar would hear as magic slashed into her face and throat, the sound like a ringing peel of damnation, "I am Selun'athiel Dayfire, born of House Dawnsea in Quel'Thalas. But you...you can call me Mistress Seluna as you serve me in undeath."
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Hours later a lone figure walked down one of the empty roads in the plaguelands, a pack on her back jingling with the sound of coin, and a book tucked neatly into a pouch on her belt. The red-haired woman paused, surveying the road ahead and the distant sight of the ruins of the Scarlet Enclave beyond. It was there she would find her first contacts amongst the Ebon Blade. There she would begin her path forward and find those she sought.
And then? Then, everyone who had ever sheltered Biara Dayfire would pay.
